Involved Significant Others
by Shooter O'Brien
Summary: An ISO can be a brother, a sister, a parent, or a child.  There they are, spilling your darkest moments to complete strangers because “they love you.”  But you won’t realize this love until you first hated them... UPDATED CH. 3 [Treatment Center Story.]
1. Chapter 1

Prologue:

An ISO can be a brother, a sister, a parent, a spouse, a child. There they are, spilling your darkest moments to complete strangers because "they love you." But you won't realize this love until you first hated them and wish they'd never been a part of your life. And you won't realize they care about you until you've come to accept that you're a drug addict, an alcoholic, or a compulsive gambler. At Grassy Knolls Treatment Center of Manhattan, we're here to help you along your journey to recovery.

Chapter One:

Grassy Knolls. What kind of name is that for a treatment center? Why do they have to beat around the bush when they name these things? Call it what it is: The Manhattan Treatment Center for Drugs Addicts, Alcoholics, and Compulsive Gamblers. Maybe that name was too long, but did they have to shorten it to Grassy Knolls? That makes it sound like a summer camp for ten year olds. But, hell, I'd rather go to one of those than here for 3 weeks.

"Did you remember to pack everything?" my mother's voice floated to the back seat of our beat up '91 Mazda.

I rolled my eye, "Yes, mommy dearest, I even remembered my toothpaste."

My father chimed in in his gravelly voice that used to have me shaking in my boots, "No need for the sarcasm, Brad. We're only doing this because we care about you and—"

"I know, I know. About me and my future," I finished for him. It wasn't like I'd never heard that lecture before.

We drove up the wooded, curving road in silence. The center isn't technically in Manhattan. It's not even in New York City; it's out of town a good 50 miles. But they use the name for recognition purposes. My mom made sure every family member knew Grassy Knolls history back to front once they decided this was the best option for me, the drug addict of the family.

Even though I know I'm not an addict. I lived away from my hometown of Syracuse, New York for eight years in Manhattan (the real Manhattan) with my roommates and fiancée. I only did drugs for social purposes. It's not like I always needed a quick fix or something. I didn't do drugs in the morning before work like I'm sure these freaks did. I could stop anytime I wanted.

The woods cleared away into a huge opening with a two story cabinesque building in the center. There were paths coming in and out of the woods, and some small buildings on the outer edges of the clearing.

Hanging over the large double front doors was a sign reading "Grassy Knolls: The Journey Starts Here". I almost laughed out loud; I haven't been here thirty seconds and already the motivational business has been thrust upon me. Good God.

My parents quickly got out of the car, leaving me to carry all my own bags. Bloody pricks, I thought, watching my mom fixing her lipstick and smoothing her dress. It's not like a bunch of druggies and alkies are going to care what a 50 year old woman looks like.

My father rang the doorbell and an older woman answered. "Hello, hello! Come on in and welcome to Grassy Knolls Treatment Center of Manhattan!" she gushed. I was waiting for her to start reading off the specials for the night; she sounded like a damn waitress, not a nurse.

"Hello," my father replied gravely. "We're here to check in Brad Hoehn. We had an appointment with Dr. Eckhart."

The nurse nodded with equal gravity, "Of course, of course. We've been expecting you. Mr. and Mrs. Hoehn, if you could please wait out here, Dr. Eckhart would like to see your son alone. It makes the session a bit more comfortable for our patients."

She pointed me through a door to the right and motioned for my parents to have a seat. I lifted a hand to knock, but heard a muffled voice inside say, "Come on in, the door's open."

"What the hell?" I muttered under my breath. I was sure this dude was going to be creepy. But, with one quick glance back at my parents, I took a deep breath and opened the door.

"Welcome to Grassy Knolls, Mr. Hoehn," a surprisingly feminine voice said. As I looked around the room, I saw a middle-aged woman sitting behind a huge mahogany desk. With her chestnut shoulder length hair and square plastic rimmed glasses, she looked like the teacher back in middle school all the guys fell in lust with.

"Or would you prefer Kid Blink?" she asked as an afterthought.

"Uh, Kid Blink," I managed after a few seconds. How'd this woman know my nickname? My parents didn't even know it.

"Welcome to Grassy Knolls," she continued, "but I'm sure you've heard that many times already from Alice, our head nurse. I've got a list of things I have to do before you're officially accepted into G.K."

Accepted? So I went from summer camp to restaurant to prestigious college?

"First, we're going to check your luggage, so if they're anything hidden in there, we'll find it. then we're going to get a urine sample to see what drugs you've taken within the last few days and then show you your room and introduce you to the other patients," Dr. Eckhart told me.

Inwardly, I smiled. Thank god I'd hidden my Valium in the front pocket of my jeans. "Okay, do you want me to take the urine sample now?" I asked. I hadn't taken any cocaine for a few days now. I didn't think prescription drugs showed up on those kinds of tests.

"In a moment, but first I'm going to need you to empty your pockets. Most patients tend to hide their pill bottles there," she said, smiling innocently. How had she known I had hidden them there?

Awkwardly, I took the plastic bottle out of my pocket and put in on the desk. She nodded encouragingly at me, "It's usually a fight to get those bottles off patients."

"I have one final question for you, Kid Blink," she said, standing up and looking me straight in the eye. "This center only works if you work with it. So, do you want to be here? Do you want to be helped?"

Without thinking, I whispered the first thing that came to my mind.

"Yes."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two.

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I don't own Newsies. I do own Alice, Dr. Eckhart, and any ISOs that appear.

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I don't have a beta-reader, but I do proofread my own stories. That said, please excuse any errors and please let me know so I can fix them.

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Thank you to everyone who read the story, and the two who reviewed! Many thanks are in order. Please keep reading and reviewing. On with the show! (or story)

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After I submitted my urine test and she had checked through my bags (I don't even want to go into how embarrassing that was), I was allowed back into the main room where my parents were seated. They looked like they hadn't moved since I left them.

But as soon as the heavy metal door slammed shut behind me, my mother's head turned my direction so fast I was afraid she had gotten whiplash. She was examining me from her chair, trying to find something different about me. Something that proved I wasn't an addict after half an hour with a doctor.

Alice, the head nurse, came out from her chair behind the front desk and said, "I'm afraid this is where you must leave, Mr. and Mrs. Hoehn. Brad needs his own space and time to deal with his problems. Visiting hours are, of course, every Sunday from two to four, so you can see him then."

My own time and space to deal with my problems? I had to chuckle. The only problems I had were people like her and my parents trying to butt into my life with their petty little worries. I almost brightened up; I would only see my family for two hours a week for as long as I was here. Maybe this place wouldn't be the worst experience.

My parents had risen and nodded graciously at Alice. My mother wrapped her arms around my waist and gave me a gentle squeeze. "You'll be alright Brad, you'll see. We all love you and have faith that you can overcome your problems," she whispered in my ear. If one more person said something about my "problems", I was going to scream.

My dad awkwardly patted my shoulder and nodded at me. "Good luck, son," he said.

"Thanks, dad," I replied, thank god he missed the sarcasm.

As soon as the door closed behind my parents, Alice told me to grab my bags and follow her upstairs. "I'll show you your room and hopefully you'll still be on time for dinner. You can meet your roommate and fellow patients then," she informed me as we went through a locked door and down a brightly lit hallway.

There were rooms on both sides, all with the doors closed and two names taped on them. I caught a couple as I went by: Spot, Racetrack, Specs, David.

She stopped in front of a door on the left side. There was only one name taped on it: Mush. I got scared, what kind of name is Mush? Am I going to be rooming with some pansy?

Alice opened the door and stepped aside so I could walk in. It was a small room, one window on the back wall with two beds, one on each wall. Each bed had a nightstand and lamp. There was one dresser next to the door. One side had pictures on the wall by the bed, so I through my bag onto the other bed.

I was turning to sit down, but Alice spoke up, "Not now Brad, it's almost dinner time. You have to meet the people you're going to be spending the next three weeks with!"

Kill me now. This is ridiculous. I'll meet them first thing tomorrow, I promise, just let me sleep! But no, Alice prodded me along to the end of the hallway. It opened up into a large room. The left side of the room had long plastic tables and chairs set up with a kitchen behind it. The other side had a small TV and more comfortable looking chairs and tables, with board games and activities set up. There was a big bulletin board between the two.

I saw through the big open window to the kitchen. There were five 20-something guys, about my age, working. The one stirring a large pot of I'm presuming soup, was short, with dark brown hair. He had a cane through his belt loop like a sword. A short, black guy was cutting up lettuce and putting it into bowls. Next to him, was a taller, brown haired boy with a pink button-up shirt on, who was pulling out slices of bread and buttering them. On the other side of the kitchen was an Italian looking man, who despite his tall height, looked about seven. Lastly, there was a tall, tan, brown haired guy who was getting out plates and silverware, but was having a difficult time. Every couple of minutes he would wipe his nose with his hand and have to go and wash his hands.

Alice went over to a bell on the wall and rang it three times. I heard a quiet din from behind a door in the living room area. Soon, the door burst open and a steady stream of guys came into the room. Without a second glance in my direction, they took their seats at the plastic tables. The orderly fashion it was done in made it look like they had either assigned seats, or just always sat in the same places.

I noticed a spot open next to a guy with curly brown hair and blue eyes and a really tan guy who also had curly brown hair but brown eyes. With one last reassuring nod from Alice, I went over and sat down.

"Hey there, one eye, you must be the new guy!" was the first thing I heard when I sat down. It came from the guy sitting across the table from me. He didn't look to be one throwing insults, considering he was wearing a god damn cowboy hat.

"Don't mind him," the brown haired, brown-eyed guy next to me advised.

I nodded. "Okay, thanks," I muttered.

"I'm Mush, by the way," he said, holding out his hand. This was my roommate? He didn't look Mushy in any way, if I was a girl I would have gladly spent the night with him. But since I'm a guy, I will be far away from him after dark.

"I'm Kid Blink," I told him, as the rest of the room listened. "I think I'm your roommate," I added.

Mush nodded thoughtfully, "You're probably right, since Oscar left, I'm the only one without a roommate. Hopefully you're a better one that that old bastard." Everyone seemed to mutter or nod in agreement.

"What are you in for?" the cowboy guy asked.

"Drugs," I replied. "You?"

He nodded, "I'm an alkie."

Mush added, "Me too."

The blue eyed guy next to me (David was his name) said that he was a compulsive gambler.

Quickly, everyone in the room had told me their name and what they were in Grassy Knolls for. I had a hard time keeping up with their names.

The group in the kitchen was all drug addicts, so I would be in their group for afternoon discussions. The short one with the cane was named Spot. Snoddy was the one with the bad runny nose. Itey was the Italian. The pink shirted guy was Skittery and the Boots was the black one.

Besides Jack (the cowboy) and Mush, the other guys in AA (Alcohols Anonymous) were Crutchy, a skinny little kid with one bum leg, Specs, who obviously had glasses, Snitch, a dark haired boy with a bad case of buck teeth, and Bumlets, the only Latin looking one of the bunch.

Joining David as gamblers were Racetrack, a small Italian boy with a mouth that never closed, Snipeshooter, a small guy with a little kid's face, Dutchy, a blonde haired, blue eyed guy, and Swifty, again, the only Asian one in the group.

As dinner was served and conversation started flowing, I just sat back and listened. All of the "patients" had different personalities and habits, but they were all like a family. I was the weird adopted second cousin who, sooner or later, would have to be accepted.


	3. Chapter 3

Before I realized it, Jack, Mush, Specs, and Bumlets got up and started to clear the table. Dinner was over so soon? It felt like it had just begun. Whoa, Nelly, was I getting soft to this crazy place already? I couldn't be. It was probably just the good, hot chicken dinner talking. I'd wake up tomorrow just as pissed off at Grassy Knolls as when my parents dropped me off.

"Hey Kid, come on," David called to me. "We're going to the living room to play some games."

Games? You have got to be kidding me. I'm not twelve. I don't play those kinds of games. If only I had valium, I could take a couple and go to bed. But no, these crazy addicts are trying to get me to play Candy Land.

But, since Dr. Eckhart had taken all of my lovely drugs away, I was stuck. Better get there fast to call dibs on Princess Lolly. Begrudgingly, I followed David and the others into the area they christened the living room.

It was through the doorway they had come before dinner. Looking around, it felt like déjà vu from my childhood in the '70s. There were three couches framing an ancient television on the far wall, one plaid and the others, dark mustard yellow. By the windows on the right, were about four folding tables, complete with their own folding chairs. On the opposite wall, dark wooden bookshelves piled high with games, cards, and a few weathered books.

Everyone took a seat on the couches or pulled up a folding chair.

"Since this is you're first time, we'll let you sit on the couch," Mush said as he beckoned me to an empty spot next to him.

"Usually, only the old-timers are allowed on the couches. All you newbies and middle-aged folks get the folding chairs. It's the closest thing to government we have around here," Race told me.

From that, I could conclude that the old-timers were Jack, Spot, Race, Mush, Blink, and David. They were the closest to being done with their three weeks. All the rest of us were the underclassmen of Grassy Knolls until those old-timers left and we were left to fill the spots.

"What are we playing tonight?" Skittery called out.

"Clue?" Snipeshooter asked.

There was a collective groan. "We just played that last week, Snipes!" Swifty said.

"But Kid Blink hasn't played it before!" Snipeshooter reasoned.

Jack laughed, "Don't worry, Snipes, I'm sure the kid's played Clue before."

He turned to me, "Am I right, kid?"

I nodded, "Not for a while, but I still remember the basics of it." But I'd sure as hell rather play Clue than Candy Land. Then my worst nightmare came true.

"How about Candy Land?" Dutchy suggested.

"Just because you're flaming Dutch, doesn't mean everyone else is!" Race told him.

I stared back and forth between Race and Dutchy, but both were grinning. Thank God, I thought some trouble might have been starting. Kind of wish it would have. I would have liked to see something exciting happen around here.

"So what game is it gonna be tonight?" David interrupted.

"Let's let the new kid decide," Jack decided. And since he seemed to be the leader, no one objected.

"So, Kid, what's it gonna be?" Mush prompted me.

Oh God. Me picking a board game. If I had been in any other situation, it wouldn't have been a big deal; I would have been half drunk and probably just said strip poker. But, since this hell hole was sans women, I'd have to go with, "Pictionary."


End file.
